Giftwrapped
by nicevenn
Summary: Harry's feeling lonely on Christmas Eve. Enter Draco Malfoy in a ribbon. Written for Mini Fest on LJ.


"No, I'm not trying to push you into a relationship." Ron looked around the table to make sure that none of the women were paying them any attention. Satisfied, he leaned closer to Harry and added in a half-whisper, "I'm just saying it might help if you got laid every once in a while. Or just once, for starters."

It was Christmas Eve, and the topic of conversation had just shifted from Harry's love life to his nonexistent sex life. Harry was not amused. He wouldn't even have mentioned his loneliness if Ron hadn't kept eyeing him suspiciously and asking what was wrong.

"And how do you propose I do that?" Harry asked, attempting to keep his voice down. "Luna let me down nicely, Seamus went barmy, and the few dates I've been on – you know how they went. None of those people want _me_. They just want to be on my arm while they pose for the _Daily Prophet_." Harry knew better than to mention Ginny when the subject was sex, but she'd told him immediately after the war that they couldn't risk ruining what they had, and he'd reluctantly agreed. The Weasleys were like family to him.

Ron looked deflated. "That's rotten luck, mate."

"Yeah," Harry said, softly now because he felt guilty for snapping. He should have tried harder tonight to put on a smile for everyone. The Weasleys were celebrating their first Christmas without Fred, and he was morose because he couldn't experience a love like Ron and Hermione's or Bill and Fleur's. It was childish.

"This ought to cheer you up, Harry." George appeared beside Harry with a bottle of Ogden's Old, and he gestured for Ron and him to go through to the sitting room, where some of the family had already begun to gather.

Some twenty minutes later, Harry was starting to feel merrier. His muscles had loosened up, and the burn of the Firewhiskey warmed him from within. He was just tipping back his fifth shot when a loud _crack_ sounded beside him. He started. Some of the contents of the glass splashed onto his chin.

"Kreacher," Harry said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. "What brings you here?"

The elf looked up at Harry with bloodshot eyes. "Kreacher is here to inform Master that he has a visitor."

"Er… Who is it?" Everyone Harry had expected to see on Christmas Eve was with him at the Burrow.

"Draco Malfoy."

Everyone grew quiet; for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was Celestina Warbeck's latest hit playing on the wireless.

"What does he want?" Harry asked.

"He is cold," Kreacher replied. "And angry. He demands to be allowed inside, and he wants Master return home at once."

Harry shared a perplexed look with Hermione, who had stepped up beside Ron to listen in. "Send him away," he said at last. "Tell him whatever he wants can wait until after Christmas."

"Kreacher has tried, but Mr Malfoy cannot leave. He is bound to the premises by powerful magic." The elf paused, and then added, "Kreacher told Master not to let those fairies inhabit the tree, but Master chose to believe the Mudbl – "

"Kreacher…" Harry warned.

The elf stopped, but he gave Hermione a look of distaste.

Harry sighed. His limbs felt heavy and his lips were slightly numb. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with an outraged Malfoy.

Ron made a sympathetic face. "We'll come with you, mate."

"Master's visitor insists that he come alone."

"Not blood likely!" Ron said.

Kreacher turned back to Harry. "He is naked and wrapped in a gold ribbon, and it is snowing outside. He is very, very angry."

Ron made an odd, choked sound, but Hermione stifled a laugh. The mirth and understanding in her eyes told Harry she had figured out what this was all about. He raised his brows quizzically.

"It looks like the moon fairies have granted you a wish, Harry."

"The moon fairies..." Harry thought out loud. Hermione had said she'd research his mysterious visitors, but she'd never got back to him, so he'd been careful not to speak any wishes out loud. No, it couldn't have been the fairies. Besides, Harry would never have wished for a naked and gift-wrapped Draco to be delivered to his doorstep, even if the idea did seem rather appealing now that he thought about it.

Harry looked around and saw that everyone was looking at him with curious expressions. He drew his arms tightly around himself. "It's not like that. I didn't wish for anything."

"You didn't have to say it out loud, Harry," Hermione said. "Moon fairies can read your heart's desires."

Harry's cheeks were beginning to burn. "Fine," he said. "Kreacher, let him inside. I'll be right there."

"Don't give him any clothes, Kreacher!" George managed to get in, with a wink, before the elf bowed Disapparated.

Harry raised an eyebrow at George. The latter shrugged.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then." Harry stood from his chair.

"Wait just a moment, Harry," Molly said, taking out her wand. "Let me get your gifts."

"Oh, no. That's not necessary." Harry said, "I'll come right back."

Molly smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Just in case, dear."

The gifts that had been piled under the tree for him floated over and arranged themselves on the edge of the table, one by one. When Harry gathered them up in his arms, the pile reached as high as his head. "Thank you," he said, attempting to acknowledge everyone without making direct eye contact, for fear that he might die of embarrassment. He was going home to a naked Draco Malfoy – and everyone knew it.

"Good luck, Harry," Bill said.

"Thanks. I'll need it." Harry took a handful of Floo powder, nearly dropping his stack of gifts in the process, and stepped into the fireplace. "Grimmauld Place," he said, releasing the powder.

Travel by Floo wasn't pleasant at the best of times. Now, having had a few drinks, Harry felt his head spinning as he arrived in his sitting room hearth.

Harry put his hand against the wall to steady himself. When the wave of nausea subsided, he opened his eyes. There, sitting on the black leather armchair and flicking snowflakes out of his hair, was Draco – and he was wearing nothing but a gold chiffon ribbon wrapped around his torso and tied into a bow at his crotch. Harry's jaw dropped. He took a step forward, caught the floor with the tip of his left shoe, and fell flat on his face. The gifts scattered across the floor.

Harry expected Draco to laugh, but the dreaded sound never came. Instead he found himself being pulled up roughly by the scruff of his neck.

"Get up, Potter!"

Harry stumbled a few steps and landed on the sofa. He brought a hand up to his forehead, feeling a little dizzy again.

"You're completely pissed, aren't you?" Draco asked, and he took Harry's groan as an affirmative. "On Christmas Eve. Classy."

"I'm tipsy, not pissed. And I never claimed to have much class," Harry said. He looked Draco up and down, eyes lingering on the bow. His lips twitched, but he dared not smile. "What are you doing here?"

Draco's cheeks turned a rosy pink. "I might ask you the same thing. I was at home, enjoying a peaceful Christmas dinner with my parents, when suddenly I showed up on your doorstep." Draco looked down at himself, nose wrinkled in disgust. "Like this!"

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. He still had no idea what he might have secretly wished for that had resulted in the scenario unfolding before him. But oh, Draco was a sight to behold: fine, pointed features, alabaster skin glowing in the firelight, and white-blond hair that shone like a halo.

At last, Harry found something to say. "Is er – your father going to hear about this?" He grinned at the thought of Lucius Malfoy, who was usually covered in leather form neck to toe, finding out about the state of dress in which Draco had appeared on his doorstep.

"Get. Me. Some. CLOTHES!"

Draco's roar echoed around the sparsely furnished room for a few seconds before Harry turned to Kreacher. The elf was arranging the scattered presents into a haphazardly stacked pile. "Kreacher, please bring our guest some clothes from my closet."

"Master's wish is my command," Kreacher said, and he disappeared with an exaggerated snap of his fingers.

Harry watched out of the corners of his eyes as Draco turned slowly, taking in the sights. His giftwrapped guest was a dazzling vision. Even Harry's Christmas tree, aglow with shining white fairies, was no match to Draco's unconventional but nonetheless striking beauty.

"This is a dark and dreary place," Draco announced.

"Then it's a good thing you and your pale arse are here to brighten things up." Harry was pleased that he managed to sound as sarcastic as he'd intended.

Draco rolled his eyes. Then, suddenly, he stilled. A chiming song had begun to sound from the direction of the tree. The fairies were singing.

It's a full moon on Christmas;  
We're here to grant wishes,  
At full moon on Christmas  
And witness sweet kisses.

Draco walked over to the tree for closer inspection. "These are moon fairies," he said, as one of the fairies jumped onto his head and dislodged a hard lock of slicked-back hair. When Draco tried to wave the creature away, he received a sprinkling of silver fairy dust on top of his head.

Harry grinned again. "So I've been told."

Unlike the standard nature fairies that witches and wizards liked to introduce to their Christmas trees, Harry's moon fairies had floated in through the window of their own accord while he'd been airing out the house a couple of weeks ago.

We feel your heart beating  
And know your desire.  
We hear what you're thinking  
We're stoking your fire.

Harry wished he could melt into the ground. His cheeks were burning something fierce. Draco turned to him with a sneer, but whatever derisive comment he was about to make was cut off by Kreacher's reappearance. He took the stack of folded clothing proffered by the elf, and began frantically pushing the ribbon down off his chest.

"You may go, Kreacher," Harry said. The elf snapped his fingers again and disappeared.

After pulling on a Harry's best jumper – Harry doubted it was a coincidence that Kreacher had brought that one – Draco continued tugging on the rest of his ribbon.

"You can go into another room," Harry suggested, but Draco met his gaze with a defiant gleam in his eye and threw the ribbon down onto the floor. Harry averted his gaze, but not quickly enough to miss the flash of golden blond curls and pale cock. Something stirred low in his belly.

Draco finished dressing and gave the discarded ribbon an angry kick. "I'm going home," he announced.

"Okay."

Casting him one last accusatory glance, Draco stepped into the fireplace and released a handful of Floo powder. "Malfoy Manor."

The green flames flickered feebly, but Draco remained where he was. He sucked in deep breath, closed his eyes, and muttered something under his breath.

"As I understand it," Harry said, "you are bound to these premises."

"Until your wish comes true." Draco looked pitiful standing in the fireplace in clothes that were slightly too small for him. He looked at Harry. "Didn't it, though? You found me naked in your sitting room, giftwrapped in gold chiffon. What more could you want?"

"I er…" Harry cleared his throat. "Believe it or not, Draco, I didn't ask to have you delivered to my doorstep. Actually I didn't consciously wish for anything at all, least of all you. I didn't know..." He gestured at the fairies. "I didn't know they'd grant a wish if I didn't actually voice one."

"That's great." With a dramatic sigh, Draco stepped out of the fireplace and flopped back down in the armchair he'd been sitting in before.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"The fairies would have arrived during the new moon," Draco said, observing the tree. "They can read your desires clearly, but only while you're in their vicinity." He paused and watched the glowing winged beings for a moment. Some of them were perched delicately on its branches; some were weaving in and out of the spaces between the icicles and hanging sugarplums as they danced and playfully pursued one other.

When Draco spoke again, his voice was softer and lower than usual. "What have you thought about – longed for – in this room?"

Their eyes met, and a sudden, intense warmth spread through Harry's chest and belly. Firewhiskey had nothing on this. "Er – I guess I just wanted to someone with whom I could feel a certain way."

"What way, Potter?" Draco was back to speaking in that infuriating drawl that Harry had, over the years, grown to hate. The moment was gone. Once again, Harry felt empty.

"I don't know how to describe it."

It was a lie. Harry had a few ideas about how to describe it: _warm, tingly, gooey, turned on_\- the way he'd just felt mere seconds ago, but he didn't want to say any of that to the other boy.

Draco was quiet for a moment. "Considering that I was delivered to you, one can only assume that I'm the person who can make you feel that way. I'll just make myself at home, then, and work my magic." He picked up Harry's copy of _Quidditch Today_, leaned back, and put his feet up on the table. "I'll have a warm butterbeer."

"Sorry, I'm all out," Harry lied, and Draco huffed.

They sat in silence for a good few minutes, Draco flipping pages without really looking at them, and Harry watching him from the sofa while he tried to summon up the courage to make a move. He feared there was only one way to appease the fairies. "Come here," he said.

Draco gave him an incredulous look. "What?"

"You heard the fairies." Harry felt himself go red again. "They want us to kiss. So, come and kiss me. Then maybe you can go home."

Draco snorted, but Harry noticed the way he shifted in his seat. "In your dreams, Potter."

"Actually," Harry said, "I've never thought about you like that before. But now that you're here, you really do brighten this place up. So, do what you want. I'm not completely averse to having you here longer than necessary. Worst case scenario, I'll cast _Silencio_ on you."

Draco tossed the magazine back onto the table. "If you want a kiss, you'll have to come and get it."

Harry's stomach flipped. He hadn't expected Draco to agree so easily, and now that the kiss was up for grabs he wasn't sure he could follow through. He fidgeted with his hands.

Draco, meanwhile, was looking as far away from Harry as possible. "I'm waiting."

Feeling as if his feet were made of lead, Harry began to move. His mouth had gone dry, and he thought his heart might hammer a hole through his chest before he made it to his destination.

Draco was still looking out the window when Harry straddled him, but his breath had quickened. Harry took him by the chin and turned his head. When Draco met his gaze, his eyes were dark, pupils swallowing up most of the stormy grey Harry was familiar with.

_Familiar._ Harry's lips twitched as he realised that the thoughts and feelings he was having about his former rival tonight weren't as unfounded as he would have liked to believe. He pressed his thumb against Draco's bottom lip and dragged it a little, admiring the silky softness beneath it.

"Do it," Draco said through his teeth.

Harry accepted the challenge and swooped in for the kiss; he wanted to do it fast lest he lose his nerve. And Draco. Fuck, he was making it so easy. Harry had expected him to freeze up, maybe even pull back, but Draco allowed him in and actually _moaned_ as their tongues slid together for the first time. And _Merlin_he tasted of caramel or whatever decadent dessert he'd been having before he'd popped up at Grimmauld Place. Or maybe that was just how Draco always tasted. The thought of it made Harry lightheaded; he had to pull away.

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Draco's eyes, but then he started kissing Harry again with a kind of controlled ferocity that made him weak. Not thinking, Harry slid his hand under Draco's jumper. He found soft, smooth skin that was almost hot to the touch.  
Draco shivered. He pulled out of the kiss, but their lips remained mere millimetres from each other. Warm breath caressed Harry's face as he slid both hands up and down the other boy's sides.

"Go ahead," Draco said, as Harry's fingers toyed with the hem of his jumper.

"I'd like to, but I think you should know that the fairies are gone." It was true. The lively winged beings that had been fluttering around the Christmas tree only minutes ago had vanished. Only the icicles, sugarplums, and fairy lights remained.

Draco didn't even glance at the tree. He appeared distraught, as if he couldn't articulate what he wanted to say.

Within seconds both their jumpers were gone. Harry couldn't get enough; he kissed Draco's neck, inhaling his warm, spicy scent, as his hands wandered over toned muscles. It felt so good, like warming up by the fire after playing Quidditch on a cold day.

_"Touch me, Potter."_

"What?" Harry was finding it hard to think, what with Draco kissing and nipping at his collarbone, but he was sure he'd been touching Draco this whole time.

Draco responded by removing one of Harry's hands from his waist and placing it on the bulge in his trousers. _Oh_, Harry thought. He hesitated for a moment, then unzipped the trousers and reached inside. For a moment he forgot how to breathe. Draco was hot and hard, and he was wearing _Harry's_ boxers. It was the most erotic thing ever. Harry hadn't even realised that Kreacher had given Draco a pair.

_"You're wearing my pants," he said, running the pad of his thumb over the wet spot on said undergarment. Beneath it he could feel the dip in the other boy's glans; he focused his attention there._

Draco gasped, and his eyelids fluttered closed. "Is that a problem?"

"Not at all."

Harry slid his hand inside the boxers and closed his fingers around Draco's velvety length. His heart was racing. Their current position, heady and intoxicating though it was, felt precariously volatile — as if one wrong word or touch could bring it all to an irreversible end. He watched Draco's face as he pulled his cock out and began to stroke him. "Look at me."

Draco's eyes flew open and bored into Harry's. Perhaps it was the light of the fire, but he looked flushed. His lips were parted and his breathing was laboured. The sight before him was the hottest thing Harry had ever seen. He leaned in to kiss Draco again. When his hand sped up it started making a rhythmic squelching sound, and Draco made a noise that might have been a moan of pleasure or a groan of embarrassment, or a combination of both, against Harry's mouth. Harry had never been more aroused in his life. His cock was aching and waves of heat were spreading through his entire body. Every sound Draco made and every twitch of his abdominal muscles wound the coil in his belly tighter and tighter. It was overwhelming, and Harry feared he might come in his trousers.

"Yes," Draco gasped. His grip on Harry's hips tightened and he his mouth formed an O.

Harry kissed Draco again, his tongue delving deep into his mouth, until he felt come pulsing over his fingers and the back of his hand. When it was over, he tucked Draco back into his boxers and grinned at his handiwork.

"I'll wipe that smirk off your face," Draco said, and before Harry knew what was happening, he found their positions reversed. Now he was sitting on the armchair and Draco was pulling his jumper over his head.

Draco went straight to work on Harry's nipples, lapping at them with his tongue and biting down gently as his hand followed the trail of dark hair from Harry's belly button to the waistband of his tented trousers.

"Want me to suck you off?" he asked, lowering Harry's flies.

"Fuck yes."

Harry watched in awe as Draco slid off the chair and settled between his legs. His cock twitched as nimble fingers released it from its confines. A slight widening of the other boy's eyes assured him that Draco was impressed. He had to look away to hide his smile, though, and he gasped in surprised delight when his cock was suddenly engulfed in tight wet heat.

Draco's mouth moved slowly up and down his length, stopping occasionally to flick the tip with his tongue or dip it into the slit to collect a drop of pre-come. Harry cast only tentative glances at what was happening between his legs, for fear that he might come in less than two minutes. But when Draco nudged his entrance with the tip of a finger, it was too much; stars exploded behind Harry's eyelids, and he came with a shout.

Draco managed to pull away just in time. He stroked Harry slowly through his orgasm, letting the come splatter onto his hand and Harry's belly.

"That was amazing," Harry said, forgetting his embarrassment. But by the time he opened his eyes again, Draco was on his feet and pulling Harry's jumper over his head.

"I have to go home, " Draco said. "Assuming that I can. My parents must be extremely worried."

"Oh, right." Harry pulled out his wand to cast a quick cleaning spell. There was a sinking feeling in his belly as he pondered the possibility that Draco would never want to see him again. "Are you sure you can't just owl them? Because I think I might have a bottle or two of butterbeer after all."

"I want to put on clothes that fit me," Draco said. "And besides, my parents won't believe I'm all right until they've seen me with their own eyes."

Harry's face fell. "Okay."

"But I suppose I could come back for that butterbeer," Draco added with as much nonchalance as if they were talking about the weather, "if you're willing to wait."

Harry smiled. "I can wait."

It turned out that Harry only had one bottle of butterbeer, but he heated it up and put it on the coffee table under under a Stasis Charm. Minutes seemed like hours while Harry fidgeted and chewed his nails, wondering if Draco would indeed make an appearance, and how long he should wait before coming to terms with the fact that he'd been stood up. He tried to peruse the magazine Draco had pretended to read earlier, but he only ended up reading the same paragraph over and over and not retaining a single word.

Some twenty minutes later, just as Harry was contemplating going to bed, Draco appeared, stepping out of the hearth. "I was worried you might have gone to sleep."

He came up to Harry and handed him a small stack of clothes, then sat down beside him.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Worried?"

"Yes," Draco said. "I guess I was kind of hoping for an encore."

Looking down at the folded clothes, Harry noticed that his boxers were missing from it, but before he could inquire as to their whereabouts, Draco said, "Sorry it took so long. Mother was having a fit of the vapours." He noticed the single mug on the table. "Is that for me? Aren't you going to have one?"

Harry shrugged. "I only had one bottle."

Draco produced his wand and _Accio'd_ the mug. "We'll share it, then." Noticing Harry's bemused look, he added, "What? It's not like you haven't swapped any saliva with me tonight."

Harry went red. It wasn't the sharing of saliva he'd been thinking about; rather, he was surprised that Draco was willing to share his drink with him. But then, this wasn't the first time he'd been surprised by Draco's behaviour.

_Maybe the fairies were onto something after all…_ Harry thought later, as he placed the empty mug down on the table and stood to Apparate to his bedroom with Draco.

"Wait, Potter!" Draco snatched the ribbon off floor, where he'd left it earlier, and grinned. "I think we'll be needing this."

The End.


End file.
